


Tea?

by EternalLibrary



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Season/Series 01, Tea, all i care about is the OG archives crew having a lovely time okay, nothing is terrible, those are probably my most used tags lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalLibrary/pseuds/EternalLibrary
Summary: Martin makes tea, and also friends.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
Comments: 19
Kudos: 115





	Tea?

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Visitor's Pass Zine](https://visitorpasszine.tumblr.com/)!  
> It was so much fun to get to be a part of this, and Summer and Snails did some amazing work bring it all together - I'm so grateful!

Martin sat at his new desk in the Archives, something a bit like anxiety or a bit like excitement but mostly like discomfort sitting heavy in his chest. He could hear Sasha typing busily and see Tim out the corner of his eye flipping through some pages, tapping a pencil absently against his leg. Martin sighed and tried to make the words on his screen resolve themselves into something he could  _ work with _ .

He eventually lost the staring contest with his laptop and pushed back from his desk, saying as he did so, “I’m going to put the kettle on, does anyone want anything?”

Tim looked up from his own desk and grinned crookedly at Martin. “Skiving off already, eh?”

Martin tried his level best to glare at Tim even as he felt heat rise to his cheeks. “It’s just tea,” he muttered. Tea breaks, he thought, are practically built into the schedule anyway.

Sasha glanced over. “Coffee’s fine for me, thanks Martin.”

Martin wrinkled his brow. “I’m not sure we have a coffee machine…”

“Oh, instant is fine,” she said, already going back to her work.

Martin blinked at her.

“I think you broke him,” Tim stage-whispered to Sasha.

“Er,” said Martin. “Alright. How do you? Take it?”

“Just milk,” Sasha said, “please.”

“Alright,” Martin repeated. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever  _ made _ instant coffee before. Or any coffee, for that matter.

“I’ll er,” he said, and made his escape. He could have sworn he heard Tim snickering behind him.

He had to pass Jon’s office on the way to the break room and slowed as he approached the ajar door. The  _ polite _ thing to do would be to ask if Jon wanted anything but…

But Jon wasn’t always entirely  _ thrilled _ to see Martin. He’d endured enough snide comments about interruptions and rolling eyes and short responses to make it clear that he wasn’t exactly Jon’s favourite person.

Still.

Martin knocked on the doorframe. “Jon?” he said. He  _ may _ have squeaked. He hoped Jon didn’t notice.

“Martin,” Jon glanced up at him, brow furrowing in a way that was  _ too _ familiar and made Martin feel about three feet tall. “Did you manage to make any progress with the Campbell statement?”

“N-no,” Martin admitted, hating the way his voice rose an  _ entire octave _ whenever he felt nervous. “I. Er. Tea?”

As soon as he had said  _ no _ , Jon rolled his eyes and looked back at his laptop. Martin felt himself flush with righteous indignation and  _ embarrassment _ .

And sure, Martin thought, it was Jon’s first week as head archivist and the pressure could make anyone… _ an ass _ , his brain unhelpfully supplied.  _ On edge _ , he argued. Although, it wasn’t so much that Jon seemed to be on edge as he seemed to just not  _ like _ Martin. Which was  _ fine _ , Martin didn’t need Jon to  _ like _ him to do his job.

Martin realised he was hovering in the doorway and while Jon hadn’t said whether or not he actually  _ wanted _ tea, he decided to solider on ahead.

“How do you take it?” he asked.

“Oh,” said Jon, without looking up, “hot.”

That had most certainly  _ not _ been the response Martin was expecting and, off balance, he said, “ _ Pardon _ ?”

Jon looked up, face settling into exasperation before he seemed to realise what he’d said. He blushed ever so slightly.

“That is, ah,” he said, “black.” He paused. “Thank you.”

Martin blinked. “Of course?” he said, unable to stop it coming out a question. He blinked again, then hurried away to the break room.

In the cupboard beside boxes of tea Martin found a tin of instant coffee and sniffed it dubiously. The kettle rumbled low behind him as he turned the tin, trying to see if it had directions.

_ Pour boiling water over 1-2 teaspoons of instant coffee and stir _ , he read.

He eyed the tin suspiciously before replacing it in the cupboard and dropping a tea bag into Sasha’s mug. There was no way that  _ that _ would be better than a proper cup of tea.

He was trying not to think about Jon  _ blushing _ because that didn’t square with the Jon he’d encountered thus far. Jon didn’t  _ misspeak _ and if he did, he didn’t  _ blush _ about it. Martin stirred a truly appalling amount of sugar into Tim’s tea and tried not to dwell on that  _ thank you _ . It was just Jon being polite, but then again, when had Jon ever been  _ polite _ to  _ Martin. _

He left the break room, two mugs in each hand, lip between his teeth as he concentrated on not spilling them. He didn’t knock on Jon’s door this time, still open. It took a bit of juggling to extricate Jon’s mug, but Jon didn’t even seem to notice. His brow was furrowed at something on his laptop screen.

Martin coughed. “Here’s your, er.”

Jon glanced up briefly to take the mug, and unthinkingly took a gulp. His eyes widened and he  _ hissed _ gently and Martin was struck briefly by the urge to wring his hands.

“Careful, it’s,” he warned, uselessly, “hot.” He wanted to close his eyes and  _ vanish _ from this interaction.

“Well,” Jon said, a little breathlessly, “that is what I asked for.”

As Martin left the office, he reflected that, if it didn’t seem so unlikely, he would have almost have thought Jon had been making a  _ joke _ .

As the weeks passed, they settled into something like a routine and Martin became the unofficial tea-maker for the archival staff, a role he was happy to fill given that no-one else seemed much to  _ care _ whether or not they had tea. Tim would more often than not show up with a take-away cup from a café on his route, and Sasha insisted she didn’t really even  _ drink _ tea, just coffee, something Martin was doing his level best to change, and with Jon he strongly suspected that the man could quite easily forget to  _ eat _ given enough absorption in his work.

Jon, who’s vague disapproval of Martin had turned into something more like active  _ chagrin _ .

“He’s just an ass,” Tim said to Martin once, “don’t worry about it.”

Which was easy for Tim to say, when he got on so well with Jon. And Martin didn’t necessarily think that it was that Jon was an ass, more that he was just…unusual, which, Martin was all too familiar with not fitting into the niche that the world seemed to expect him to occupy.

So he kept trying and Jon kept scoffing and staring down his nose at Martin. The worst part was that Martin had no idea what he was doing  _ wrong _ . The thing with the dog had been a complete misunderstanding, and Martin  _ knew  _ he hadn’t been anywhere nearby when that shelf collapsed and  _ besides, _ it wasn’t like he was responsible for ensuring the structural stability of every old, overstuffed shelf.

No, he thought to himself in the small break room, what he  _ was _ responsible for was making  _ tea _ . Which wasn’t  _ entirely _ fair, but still, he strongly suspected that Jon was deliberately not giving him as much work as the other two. As if Martin couldn’t  _ handle _ it. He shut the cupboard door with perhaps a little more force than was necessary.

He was still a little disgruntled as he set off with the tea, eyes on the four mugs to make sure that he didn’t spill. So he didn’t see Jon until he was nearly on top of him. Martin started, took a step backwards, nearly tipped over and managed to spill a great deal of hot tea all over himself.

Jon looked up, startled, from a sheaf of papers in his hand. And, Martin thought a little uncharitably, who  _ reads _ while they’re walking through the corridors where anyone could be?

“Sorry,” he gasped. The tea had been hot at first, but it was rapidly cooling and Martin was just  _ wet _ and smelling of bergamot and Jon was  _ looking _ at him with an expression that Martin really did  _ not _ want to interpret.

“I think,” Jon said, “we can share the blame in this instance. I wasn’t exactly watching where I was going either.”

Martin dripped miserably.

“Once you’ve cleaned this up,” Jon continued, “you can take the day.”

“I don’t need –” Martin said. It wasn’t like his flat was  _ that _ far.

“It’s fine,” Jon said, tone indicating it really wasn’t  _ entirely _ fine.

And Jon whisked past him, leaving Martin standing in the corridor holding four nearly empty mugs and feeling like an idiot.

“I can  _ make _ my own coffee,” Sasha said.

“Never,” replied Martin. “I’m going to win you around.”

“I don’t  _ dislike _ tea,” she said, “I just  _ prefer _ coffee.”

“Wrong answer! I’m sorry Sash, this is for your own good.”

Sasha made a grab for the tin of instant coffee, but Martin anticipated her and snatched it away, holding it above his head.

Sasha jumped for it, reaching wildly. “Unfair!”

At the table, Tim watched with a single raised eyebrow. Martin put the coffee on top of the cabinets, out of Sasha’s reach, and then dropped tea bags into three mugs. The kettle rumbled pleasantly towards a boil, and the break room was close and warm and comfortable with the three of them.

“I think,” said Tim, tapping his fingers meditatively on the table, “it’s some kind of religious thing. Handling coffee is against Martin’s tea cult’s rules.”

“You’ve caught me,” Martin said, raising his hands, “I had to swear on a box of Barry’s.”

“Huh,” said Sasha, “I guess that’s reasonable.”

“Cults are nothing if not reasonable,” Tim added, straight-faced.

The kettle clicked off, and Martin started to pour the water over the tea bags. As he did so, Sasha made a sudden leap and scrambled onto the counter, crouching and then standing to grab at the coffee.

“ _ Sasha! _ ” Martin yelped and banged the kettle down before grabbing her around the waist and hauling her off the counter.

Sasha was struggling and they were both laughing and then Martin heard a cough from the doorway.

“Hey boss,” said Tim.

Martin very gently put Sasha down and turned slowly.

There in the doorway stood Jon, brow perpetually furrowed, holding several empty mugs.

“Hi?” said Jon, the word almost sounding like a question.

“We’re having a tea break,” Sasha explained.

“Right,” said Jon.

His monosyllables were making Martin nervous, so he spoke up, “You, er, your office, your door was closed so we didn’t er. The kettle just boiled though, if you want…” He could feel his face heating, could see Tim’s eyes twinkling with silent laughter.

“That’s,” said Jon, and Martin was certain he was going to be brushed off. But Jon continued, “that would be nice, thank you. I’ll just er, wash these. And you can use one of them.”

“You been hoarding mugs?” Tim asked, as Martin tried not to sag with relief.

“Something like that,” said Jon, turning on the tap and setting down the mugs.

Sasha picked up a brown mug with green and pink and yellow cat silhouettes, “I’d wondered where this one had got to!”

Jon looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “Sorry about that.”

Martin went back to pouring the water over the remaining mugs, then squeezed past Jon to get the milk from the fridge. Jon glanced up at him, wiping off a green mug with the logo for an insurance company Martin had never heard of before handing it silently to him.

Martin poured milk into his, Sasha and Tim’s teas, stirred  _ far _ too much sugar into Tim’s, and watched as Jon’s tea slowly deepened into a warm brown.

“Cheers,” said Tim.

“I’d still prefer coffee,” Sasha muttered, but grinned at Martin as she said it.

“Thanks,” Jon said, and for the first time gave Martin a small smile.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments = warm cups of tea.  
> I'm on tumblr at [autisticjonsims](https://autisticjonsims.tumblr.com/), and you can find out more about the zine at [visitorpasszine](https://visitorpasszine.tumblr.com/).


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